Scars
by Bobbie23
Summary: Morgan and Emily confront his reaction to her injuries from Doyle's attack. Set during season seven. Warning for sexual content.


Author Note – okay, nothing's fallen through on the move, but I've had some time while waiting for some things to happen (also a bit jealous that I can't see the 200th episode for a few months, any Demily squinting to be done?). It's M-rated for a reason so if you're a minor don't proceed. If you're not a minor, but not too fond of M-rated material, it's not till the last part of the story. I would love to know what you think, so if you have sometime any comments would be greatly appreciated. I hope you enjoy it.

Scars

'To open your heart to someone means exposing the scars of the past'

Unknown

They hadn't intended for the day to end like this. What had started out as a normal Sunday at the shooting range, leading to a run at the athletic field, had ended in the eruption of emotion that Emily had been anticipating since her return. He had been too accepting, too quiet. What she hadn't expected was the accompanying confessions from both of them.

They had danced around one another since she came back, throwing themselves into repairing their friendship rather than confront what happened that day in the warehouse. While they spent more time together than they had before, they avoided each other, worried that one wrong word would push them back to square one. The teasing was replaced by meaningful stares and quiet moments. The boundaries of their personal space were becoming blurred. They touched each other more, not inappropriately just the occasional brushing of hands when they passed in the corridor, a hand in the small of the others back as they reached past them for something, a warming sensation passing through them with each contact.

"How are you feeling?" Morgan asked gently. Emily rolled her eyes at his overprotective nature when it came to her injuries.

"I'm fine Morgan, we didn't need to stop."

"Well maybe I was tired; we've had a long week," he flashed Emily his charm smile, which she returned. The case had been brutal and felt like it lasted for a lot longer than the four days they had been away.

That morning she'd gotten a stitch during their run and he insisted they call it a day. When they reached her apartment she sat on the sofa covering her stomach with her hand as he perched on the coffee table in front of her. Morgan continued to watch her hand before he gave into the temptation and reached out to touch her hand over her stomach.

Emily didn't move away from the heat of his touch, just slipped her hand out from underneath his when he pushed hers out of the way. His strong hand moved gently over the fabric, massaging her. Morgan suddenly became aware of how intimately he was touching her and went to remove his hand from her. Not wanting to lose his touch, Emily quickly placed her hand on top of his to keep it there. Morgan's eyes snapped to hers and he gulped nervously.

Emily felt raw underneath his gaze but she didn't flinch when she felt his fingers twitch. She knew he wanted to see the scars that lay beneath her shirt. If it was anybody else, Emily would have denied them but Morgan had found her, seen her injuries and Emily was only just starting to realise the effect witnessing that had on him.

She pressed surely on his hand, her fingers lacing between his as she helped him lift the fabric. There was a quick intake of breath and Emily wasn't sure if it came from her or him or maybe both of them. Morgan's eyes were riveted to her abdomen as he became bolder and his fingers traced along the scar. Emily dropped her hand to the side as she watched Morgan's face, spellbound as he touched her delicately. His fingers followed the path of the gnarled skin, almost as if he was trying to heal them. Emily watched a flicker of his eyes; she saw the look of curiosity turn to one of frustration.

"Morgan," Emily started, her voice hoarse with emotion as she tried to prevent the inevitable eruption.

"He did this to you," he explained, he sounded hurt rather than angry as he pulled his hand away. Emily leant forward to stay close to him, her shirt falling back into place, desperately wanting to stay in the little bubble they had created around them a moment ago.

"Doyle is dead," Emily explained to him.

"Is he?" Morgan questioned as he looked up at her. "How can he be when he still haunts our conversations? Our nightmares?"

Emily let the question hang in the air as she pondered the meaning of his use of the word of 'our'. She had never mentioned her own nightmares, which had become less frequent since she came back to DC. He had never offered such personal, private information, never opened up to this kind of scrutiny or weakness. What scared her was that she was the cause; she had him tied up in knots, made him vulnerable. She desperately wanted to heal his heart.

"Nightmares?" A sudden morbid fascination came over, compelling her to ask him about his.

"When I was searching for him," Morgan started with a nod. "I couldn't help but wonder how you could let him touch you. Touch you in ways I couldn't."

Emily sat up straighter at his admission. She had no idea how to answer him, to offer comfort. Before going undercover to find Doyle, Emily had thought long and hard about what was expected of her during the assignment. In the end her decision had been based on the victims of his crimes. Doyle needed stopping and it had been one of the few options they had. She needed Doyle to fall for her and she had succeeded. If she hadn't she wouldn't be sitting there.

"Morgan," Emily licked her lips and she leant her elbows on her knees, her fingers interlocking at their apex. "He would have killed me if I didn't act the part."

"Act?" He questioned.

Emily briefly closed her eyes at the tone, summoning strength for her own confession. "Yes it was an act. There was a small part of me that had a problem reconciling everything he had done with the loving father he was to Declan." Emily paused to take a deep breath. "It was when he asked me to raise Declan to be like him that I had to end the investigation, I couldn't let that happen to Declan. I couldn't let him become a victim of his father's life." Emily swallowed the lump in her throat. "Doyle never knew the real me, not like you do."

"Do I know the real you?" Morgan asked. Emily tried to read him but found it impossible to see through the mask he had put in place. Gone was the man who seemed too scared to touch her a few moments ago.

"I think you know the real me better than anyone, even myself sometimes," Emily told him sincerely. She saw the walls in his eyes crumble a fraction and Emily took it as a sign to continue. "You always see through me when I'm trying to hide. You had no idea what was going on but you let me know you were there for me, like you always have been. I'm sorry I didn't let you in."

"Don't do it again," he pleaded.

Emily's hand reached out to touch his, her fingers grazing the back before taking a firm grasp. A surge of relief washed through her when he squeezed her hand tightly. "I won't," she promised. While there had been others she had put away during her stint at Interpol, they paled in comparison to Doyle. She knew she wouldn't keep anything from him, couldn't for the sake of their relationship. She promised herself to be more open when she was on the plane home from Paris. She had strived to keep that promise since her return.

Their breathing and the ticking of the clock were the only noises in the room as they held onto each other's hand. Emily shuffled closer to the edge of the sofa just to be closer to Morgan, their knees bumping. "Why did it bother you so much?" Emily regretted the question as soon as she said it, but she wanted to hear the answer from him.

Immediately Morgan sat up and dropped her hand. Their eyes locked for a long moment, neither of them backed down under each other's gaze. "I was jealous," Morgan said quietly, not breaking eye contact. "I am jealous."

"Why?" The small word slipped out before Emily could stop. This was dangerous territory; neither of them did well when it came to confronting feelings, they tended to actively avoid it.

"Because he took the dream of you away from me."

"I'm right here Morgan." Emily reclaimed his hand as she tasted the saltiness of her tears on her lips. She yearned to hold him, but was unsure if she could. When he didn't reply, Emily ignored all insecurities and tugged his hand to pull him to sit next to her. Her arms opened, but he got there first by pulling her to him. She found it difficult to breathe as he squeezed her but she wasn't going to let him go. Emily stroked his back murmuring reassurances, "I'm right here."

She felt a damp patch forming on her shoulder and imagined there was a matching one pooling on his shirt as she cried openly. "I missed you," he said into her neck.

They held each other for a long time, their tears drying eventually. Their embrace began to become awkward and Morgan pulled away, not meeting her gaze. Acutely aware of the implications of his confession Emily sat silently beside him, lost in her own thoughts. She couldn't deny that she had similar thoughts to him. She hated to admit Morgan was right; Doyle was still affecting every conversation, every interaction between them.

Emily gave him a sideways glance and saw the apologetic look on his face. "I'm sorry," he said sadly.

Emily shook her head. "You have nothing to apologise for." She turned so she was sitting sideways on the sofa, her leg folded underneath her body. "I don't want the past to dictate the future." Morgan turned to face her, his eyebrow raised in silent question. "Doyle had so many victims, and I refuse to let him claim our friendship as one of them."

Emily grabbed hold of his hands, moving them to the edge of her shirt. She paused as his eyes widened at her intention. Resolutely she pushed their fingers under the fabric and together they pushed her shirt off, leaving her in her sports bra and jogging bottoms. She didn't shy away as his eyes travelled the length of her torso. Finally his eyes settled on the tiny patch of skin at the edge of her bra. Where Doyle's brand once resided was now a neat line left behind by a scalpel. "I had it removed when I was in Paris."

Morgan looked up at her face. "You're healing."

Emily nodded in relief when his eyes relaxed, grateful that he got the point she was trying to make. "Are you healing?" Morgan gave her an understanding smile and he nodded. He lifted his hands, hovering over her torso as he paused for permission. At her small nod as his hands resumed their previous position on her body unaided. Emily leant back on her elbows so she could watch his confidence grow; all thoughts of the man who gave her those scars went away as she saw the reverence with which Morgan treated her.

His thumb began to sweep back and forth on her abdomen. Emily closed her eyes at the sensations running through her. There were a lot of reasons why they should stop this here, but Morgan's peace of mind was more important. Her skin tingled with every touch and she fought not to react as her heartbeat quickened. She felt the atmosphere shift and was confused that it didn't feel awkward.

Emily had never experienced anything like this. It was the realisation that Morgan knew her better than anyone else that scared her, made her feel raw under his touch. She fought the urge to flee the intense situation they had placed themselves in when it had only just begun, knowing it would only intensify. She didn't want to run from Morgan.

Her eyes flew open when she felt his lips ghost on the twisted skin. She met his gaze as he hovered over, pausing for permission, gauging her reaction. When she didn't push him away he took it as a sign to continue. Emily kept her eyes open, locked with Morgan's as he kissed along her scar.

She lowered herself to lay flat on the sofa as he began to move up her body with his kisses. He reached the scar just above her bra, placing a feather light touch there before rising above her, holding himself up on his hands so not to crush her. They stared at each other for a long time.

"Tell me to stop now," Morgan told her. "If you're not sure about this, tell me now."

Emily's hand snaked between them and cupped his cheek. "I'm right here." She moved her hand to the back of his head, and gently applied pressure to pull him down to her.

The cushions dipped underneath their combined weight as Morgan carefully lowered himself. Pausing briefly when their lips were just touching, Emily could feel his breath on her lips. She tipped her head and closed the distance between them, sighing into his mouth. At first the kiss was cautious, gentle presses of their lips. But their trepidation soon melted away as their passion rose and they writhed to get even closer to one another.

Their mouths met over and over again, moaning into the other as they deepened the kiss. Morgan's hands began to roam again, this time for pleasure. Deciding that she her own hands had been passive for too long, Emily lifted them to start caressing Morgan. She squirmed lightly when he found the ticklish spot at the base of her spine. Morgan pulled back at her movement, laughing gently before stroking the spot again making her bite her lip as she fought not to laugh.

"That's not fair," she murmured before reclaiming his lips. Morgan met her willingly. With each kiss the pain that had brought them together today ebbed away.

She dipped her hands under his shirt, stroking his back lightly before pushing his shirt up. They lost contact as Morgan helped her by pulling the garment over his head. As soon as it was over his head Morgan dropped it to the floor and he dropped down, reconnecting with her hungrily.

Emily moaned as he began to trail his lips downwards towards her neck. Morgan edged his hands underneath her jogging bottoms, exploring the skin there as he nibbled on a particularly sensitive spot on her neck. He continued his way down her body, shuffling backwards until he was at the waist band of her bottoms. Emily was panting lightly as he grasped them. She lifted her hips to aid him as he undressed her. They joined his shirt on the floor.

Their eyes connected once again as his hands moved to her bra. Emily lifted up and he undid the hooks with ease. He kissed the top curve of her breast and his fingers touched her last remaining garment. She lifted her hips again and he drew them down her long legs. They were added to the growing pile on the floor.

"You're beautiful," Morgan whispered as he sat back to look at her. Emily felt the blush creep across her skin as he stared, but she didn't shy away. She didn't try to hide her scars; they were a part of her. He accepted that.

A tingle shot through her when Morgan placed a kiss at the apex of her thighs. Emily closed her eyes as he touched her. She felt worshipped as the sensations coursed through her. It felt like he was everywhere, his cologne mixed filled her senses, his hands caressing her gently as he nibbled at her nerve centre. Emily felt her orgasm building slowly. He increased his teasing as she drew to her climax, concentrating his tongue on her core to help her over the edge. She cried out as it washed over her.

As Emily came down from her orgasm, she saw Morgan moving back up her body. They kissed passionately as he pressed against her. His arousal was evident through his trousers. Emily wanted to feel all of him. She sat up slightly and started to push his trousers and boxers off of him. Morgan, sensing her urgency, finished what she started and they joined the rest of their clothes.

Morgan suddenly turned to grab for his back pocket but Emily stopped his hand, shaking her head. "What about…?" He asked.

"I trust you Morgan and I haven't been with anyone since before…" she trailed off before she said the name that would ruin the moment. He nodded, and returned to his position above her.

Emily caressed him gently and he kissed her sweetly as he pressed her back down on the sofa. He positioned himself at her entrance and started to push into her as her legs wound around him. He stopped when he heard her gasp, but Emily shook her head, urging him to continue. "I'm fine Morgan," she told him. "It's been a while," she assured him.

He continued to press inside of her, revelling in the feel of her. They started to move against one another, moaning at the sensations they created. They kissed and caressed as he stroked inside of her. Nobody had ever been so attentive to her needs as their pleasure built. He licked and nipped at her skin. Emily was intoxicated by him as she tilted her head back as he grazed on her collar bone.

Emily started to pulse around him as his thrusts became stronger, forceful. Emily breathed deeply, her hands slipping to his waist, imploring him to drive deeper. She captured his lips as she recognised the signs of his climax drawing near, moaning into his mouth. Emily jumped lightly when she felt his fingertips stroking her where they were joined.

"Come for me," Morgan whispered. She could only nod as she clenched around him. She rode through her orgasm, clinging on to him as he joined her as he reached his own climax.

Afterwards they lay in each other's arms, kissing languidly. Morgan pulled the blanket from the back of the sofa over them to keep the cold away. After a while they moved to Emily's bedroom, where their caressing restarted, exploring thoroughly as they came together over and over again. Curled together amongst the blankets in the small hours of the morning they didn't speak of any implications, they didn't speak of Doyle. It wasn't about that. It was about healing. It was about repairing the bond that had almost been broken, making it stronger than it had been.


End file.
